Shut Up And Let Me Finish
by AlmightyOstrich
Summary: When Castiel, now a Jedi, returns after ten years on Coruscant, Dean doesn't know how to feel about him and the fact that he didn't stay in touch. (Short Destiel Star Wars AU thingy) Rated T for language just to be sure.


_Late birthday gift for my awesome buttface friend Saammehh. It was originally meant to have a lot more cool spacey sci-fi stuff in it but then destiel drama happened. Just take some extra time to imagine Cas in Jedi clothes swinging a lightsaber - you're welcome. Also, if any Star Wars details seem fuzzy, I apologize. I have elaborate backstories that couldn't be properly put into this short a story, and even though I love it, I don't know as much about Star Wars as some people. Anyway, this was fun to write, and I might write more stories with this crossover. _

* * *

"Dean! Dean, you won't believe who's back!"

Dean looks up from the metal parts he's been polishing and meets Sam's eyes, which gleam excitedly as the giant of a man leans over Dean's battered working desk to get closer to him. Dean puts the metal cylinder down and throws the rag over his shoulder.

"Someone's back?" he says skeptically. "Am I missing somebody?"

Sam grins.

"Just come out and see."

Dean looks at Sam for a long moment. He honestly can't think of anyone who's gone anywhere that he should be so glad to see return. It renders him to think it's probably one of Sam's old friends from school that he can't remember the name of but which Sam insists he met once and therefore should like to meet again. Sighing, Dean pulls the rag off his shoulder and puts it in the mishmash of spare parts on the desk. It's not like he's on a tight schedule anyway.

"Fine, I'm coming."

Sam takes a little leap as he spins around and heads for the door. Dean shakes his head, but smiles, because it's good to see Sammy happy for once after everything that's happened.

When Dean steps out from Singer's Space Salvage, the first thing he notices is that there's no ship standing next to his own. If they're expecting visitors, there should be a ship there. It's not like there isn't space – they have an entire parking lot, since what they do at Singer's is fix ships of all kinds.

But as his eyes wander he spots a figure standing to the left; a lean frame covered in a brown robe leaning against the wall of the building. The figure is hooded and Dean can't even see what species it is, which sets off all kinds of warning signals in his mind. But he knows better than to act on them without justification.

"Sam, is that the one?" he asks quietly, gesturing towards the figure.

"Yeah", says Sam, not as concerned with keeping his voice down. "Walk over and say hello."

"Who the hell is it?"

"You'll see."

"Sam, if it's one of your school friends I don't know or care about I swear-"

"_You'll see._"

Dean eyes Sam suspiciously and then resigns to stop asking questions and just get it over with. He walks up to the figure, which stands up straight when he approaches despite Dean not making a sound and the stranger not looking at him. Dean reaches his hand out, cautiously watching the stranger whose face he still can't make out beyond the shadows the hood casts over his face.

"Hi", says Dean. "Sam says I know you."

"You do", says the stranger. His voice is deep and rough and it almost throws Dean off balance. "Or at least, you used to." The stranger reaches up and Dean thinks they're going to shake hands, but the stranger moves his hand further up and pulls back his hood.

Dark, unruly hair springs up and deep blue eyes meet Dean's. Despite the years that have gone by, he knows exactly who this is. He remembers everything.

"Cas?" Cas smiles. "I promised I would return. Here I am."

He holds out his arms – a gesture of warmth Dean doesn't remember Cas usually being one to initiate. Still – and despite himself – Dean welcomes it, falls quickly into the embrace and suddenly feels like he's fifteen again, saying goodbye to his best friend who promises to come back and then stops writing. Dean does his best not to cry. He succeeds, but his breath is shaky when he inhales, and it's odd how Cas seems to notice and clutches him tighter.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hiya Cas."

* * *

Ten years.

It's been ten freaking years and Cas just shows up on their doorstep expecting everything to be the way it used to. Dean doesn't get how Sam and Bobby can just pick up where they left off, talking and eating and laughing as if no time has passed, as if Cas never left and stopped communicating and abandoned them for a better place, the jackass. As if he had nothing to answer for. They'd practically been family, with Castiel the orphan spending almost all his time at Singer's hanging out with Dean and Sam. Then some stranger in a robe appeared and said he saw that Cas had an 'unusual talent' that he should develop at some academy. Cas said he had to go because maybe he could fit in for once. As if he didn't already fit in with them. He'd asked if Dean couldn't come with him, but even if he hadn't already been above the usual age of a beginning student, Dean didn't have Cas' knack for it. He could never do any of that shit and Cas knew it. Besides, Dean was happy where he was. They had been building something together and not just ships, and then Cas had to go and ruin everything. There is no way Dean can just let that go and pretend nothing's ever happened.

Suddenly Sam slams his fork down.

"Cas, you've _got_ to show us your lightsaber!"

Castiel, who sits up straight like an idiot the same way he's always sat, rolls his eyes. He has shredded his robe and is now wearing only light sand colored clothes with a dark brown belt to which the saber is attached. The belt does wonders showing off his narrow waist. Dean hates to admit it, but _damn_ Cas grew up handsome. Not that he didn't use to be. He used to be super cute with the hair he always went too long without cutting and the clothes that were a size too big, the collar bones that stuck out and the cheeks that got all rosy and pink when he sat in front of their fireplace. Yeah, Cas has always been easy on the eyes. But the thing is, Dean remembers him with the light voice of a child and the slightly floppy movements of limbs not yet fully and proportionally grown, and the man that sits next to him now is, while undoubtedly the same person, completely different. He's not just cute. He's fucking _hot._

"It is not a toy, Sam", says Castiel calmly, like a parent talking to an over-excited child. "It is not to be an object of menial entertainment."

"You saying we're _menial_ now?" asks Dean, who hasn't said much during the course of the entire dinner. Cas turns his head to look at him, his lips curving upward in an annoying almost-smile. Dean wants to punch him in the face.

"No, Dean. I was merely referring to a mindset. Your livelihood, while simple…"

"Watch your tongue, boy", grumbles Bobby.

"… Is as necessary and noble a commitment as mine."

"That'll do", Bobby shrugs.

"Come on, Cas", says Sam, "we're not gonna play with it. We're just curious. We want to admire it. That's got to be okay, to show it off for admiration?"

"I suppose…" Castiel takes a long sip of his drink – two seconds more and it would have come off as stuck-up and impolite – and picks the saber off his belt with surprising ease. "… I could make an exception for you three."

"Yes! Cas, you're awesome." Sam grins."Dean, give him a kiss on the cheek from me."

Dean stills. Cas looks at him expectantly. It used to be a thing between them to give each other a kiss on the cheek for all kinds of stupid reasons, like managing to build a little robot or win a game of tag. Not being completely dull in the head, they both knew the real underlying reason for it, but they never talked about it. The closest they ever came was 'Dean, you're my favorite person' and 'Cas, we're family'. Back then, when they were kids, that had been enough. Dean is sure it would've been enough for a lifetime if only Cas hadn't chucked it all in a dumpster when he went off to fancy ass force-bender school. Dean is angry with Cas, and there is no way that pretentious lightsaber monk is ever going to get a kiss on the cheek again.

"Uh…" Is all that comes out while Dean's brain works furiously to come up with a good excuse.

"Is something wrong, Dean?" asks Cas. "Did my face grow up too ugly for you?"

"No, no, it's not- I mean, you look great. No, I mean-" Dean feels himself blushing and he decides to shut up.

"Well, I suppose we can't keep all our old habits", says Castiel lightheartedly as he stands up. He looks at Sam, Bobby and Dean in that order. He keeps his eyes on Dean when he lets the light out from the lightsaber handle. It glows in a gorgeous bright shade of blue, like the cloudless sky on a sunny summer day. Castiel spins the handle in his hand and shows a few different positions, sweeping and swinging the lightsaber from pose to pose as if it were a choreographed dance routine. There's a low buzzing sound with every movement of the saber, one Dean has only ever heard of, but never heard himself. He wonders how many times Cas has had to do that little routine before his teacher was happy.

"That's amazing, Cas. I've always wanted to see a Jedi in action", says Sam, his voice teeming with glee. Dean doesn't understand why he's so happy. Sam was upset too when Cas stopped writing. He'd even been telling Dean over and over that if he wanted to talk about it, Sam was there. Sam knows and Sam cares, so why isn't he angry?

When dinner is over and Cas is helping Bobby clean the plates and cutlery – he'd offered to do it all by himself first but Bobby refused – Dean pulls Sam aside to the adjacent room where they have their working desks and all the current projects that can fit inside the house. The room is cluttered with spare parts, nails, mutters, tools and whatnot, but they've made sure to maintain wide enough pathways between the heaps of boxes and items.

"What is going on with you?" Dean practically hisses. Sam frowns.

"With me? What's going on with _you?_" He pulls away from Dean's grip on the lapel of his shirt. "You've hardly said a word and I've been trying to include you in the conversation all evening."

"Don't you remember anything?" Dean glares at his brother. "Cas left us."

"To go to Coruscant and become a Jedi, Dean", says Sam, calmer now. "It was his dream."

Dean rolls his eyes.

"I'm not talking about that", he says. "You know what I mean. You're telling me that in _ten years_ he didn't get a week off to come visit or at least five minutes to write a damn letter? He was a dick and he let us down, Sam." Dean looks at the floor and mumbles the next thing almost inaudibly, "he let _me_ down."

"Dean…" The sad tone of Sam's voice forces Dean to look up again, into equally sad eyes. "I know it's hard. I'm confused about all that too, but whatever's happened, whatever he did, he's still Cas. We ought to at least let him tell his side of the story before passing our judgments."

Dean snorts.

"You didn't give up on me, even when I was at my worst", says Sam. "Do me a favor, okay, and don't give up on Cas just yet."

"You don't get it", says Dean. "_He_ gave up on _us._"

"But he's back now." Sam grabs a cleaning rag from on top of a pile of boxes to his left. "If it bothers you so much, go talk to him. I'll finish up in here."

Dean sighs. He may not be a genius or a Jedi but he's not dumb. He knows he's going to have to talk to Cas about his feelings eventually, no matter how much he hates it. All things considered, he might as well do it right now.

* * *

Dean finds Cas in the kitchen. He is just finished with drying and putting away the last plate. Bobby sees the two of them staring at each other and, acutely aware of the elephant in the room, goes to help Sam, leaving them alone.

"Hello Dean", says Cas. He sits down on the bench by the table. "May I ask you something?"

Dean crosses his arms over his chest.

"Shoot."

"How have you been all this time? You don't seem as chatty as you used to."

"Well, you know, it's been ten years", says Dean slowly. "People change. It's one of those things you probably would've noticed if you'd, uh, say… stayed in touch?"

Cas blinks.

"I sense agitation in you."

"Really?" says Dean sarcastically. "How come?" Then he sighs and drops his arms to his sides. "No, you know what? No more bullshit. We need to talk about this." He walks over to the bench and sits down next to Cas, keeping a reasonable one foot's distance between them.

Cas suddenly has a solemn expression on his face.

"Dean, I… I think I know the issue you are intending to address."

"Oh?" Dean raises his eyebrows. He unwillingly relaxes in Cas' presence, just because it's Cas and Cas is the best friend he's ever had. No, was. _Was_ the best friend he's ever had.

"I have made two mistakes", says Cas. He's staring straight into Dean's eyes, and Dean can't will himself to look away. "The first was when I stopped writing you, which I did because my Master spoke of the importance of being able to let go even of the things one holds dear, and I misinterpreted his lesson. The second was when, after I realized my first mistake, I assumed you would no longer want to hear from me."

"What?" Dean furrows his eyebrows. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I never truly belonged with you." Cas looks away. "Or so I thought." When Dean gives him a confused look, he continues. "Sam and you were brothers and Bobby was your uncle, but who was I? I felt like I was just… there. I was young and often rash in my thinking, and I became convinced that once I had destroyed my chance to be one of you by not writing or communicating in any way, you wouldn't care to have me back with you. I thought it was too late. A few months ago I realized how one-sided that train of thought was and how I had wrongly allowed fear to influence my thoughts. Since then, I have been building up the courage to return. And…" He looks at Dean again. "Well, here I am."

"Cas…" Dean shuffles a little closer – just a little, just an inch, nothing to worry about. "We're family. I told you that."

Cas smiles bitterly.

"I thought you were lying", he murmurs, "to make me feel better."

Dean looks at him for a long moment.

"You are an absolute dick, you know that?"

Cas frowns, bewildered.

"What?"

"I _never_ lied to you", says Dean. He clenches and unclenches his jaws. "I would've understood if you'd just written, or visited, anytime, even if it had been years-"

"I'm here now."

"Shut up." Dean turns slightly away from Cas. It's almost too much at once, all of this – and just being close to Cas is at least half of it. He runs a hand over his face and through his hair, drawing a deep breath before mumbling with a shaky voice, "I fucking missed you."

"I am truly sorry, Dean. I'm sorry I let fear rule over my affection for you for so long."

Dean shivers, for no apparent reason. He bites his bottom lip and feels the anger and hurt burn in his stomach.

"You were my best friend and I needed you." He starts to fiddle with his hands. "You have no idea what's happened since you left, the shit I've had to deal with." He turns to Cas again, grabs the arm of Cas' shirt and tugs at it, frustration not letting him think of anything else to do. "_I needed you!_ I wrote to you every night for weeks and never got anything back." Dean lets go of Cas and slams his fist on the table. "Not _one damn word!_"

Cas opens his mouth to speak, but closes it once his eyes have searched Dean's face as if he's trying to find something to latch onto, and failing.

Dean takes a deep breath. There are tears in his eyes and he wipes them away with the back of his hand and snivels quietly. He refuses to be the one to speak first, because this silence is somehow managing to say everything he can't.

"I'm sorry", says Cas eventually, staring at a point of empty space in front of him. "I don't know what else to say. I was stupid, and I despise myself for it. Please understand", he looks at Dean, "that I never meant to hurt you."

"Well, you did, anyway", says Dean. Cas sighs.

"I know. I suppose all I can do now is… I'm here, Dean. I know I'm too late and I know I probably don't deserve a second chance, but…" Dean isn't certain, but it feels like Cas just moved closer. He's not sure though, because all he sees are those piercing deep blue eyes. "If you'll have me, I am here now. Otherwise I'll…" Cas blinks, and it looks like there are tears in his eyes that he's forcing back. "I'll go."

Dean feels time slow down. Is Cas giving him an ultimatum? All or nothing, right now, and he has to choose?

He should be angry, he thinks. He should be furious at Cas for having the amount of idiocy to come and demand something like this after everything he's done. But the look on Cas' face is everything but demanding, and Dean isn't angry – just tired. He's tired of this unresolved conflict that's proven to be stupid all the way through. All he wants is his best friend back.

Time still passing in slow motion, Dean inches closer and, with an unexplainable burst of courage and perhaps utter stupidity, lays his hand gently on Cas' thigh. Their eyes lock.

"I can't believe I'm saying this because I ought to be kicking your ass-"

"As if you could", Cas teases.

"Shut up and let me finish. I'm never gonna let you have the last piece of food. I'm never gonna drive you places I don't wanna go… and I'm gonna embarrass you in every public place we go to." Dean smiles a little. "But I'll have you."

Before he knows it, before he has time to think, he's doing what he's wanted for more than ten years. He's pressing his lips to Cas' – and suddenly, without warning, Cas kisses back. Dean lets his hand travel up to rest on Cas' chest, and Cas runs his fingers through Dean's hair, cups his jaw and caresses his cheek.

Then Cas pulls away.

"Dean", he says quietly, "there's something I should have told you a long time ago."

"That you're a dick?" Cas chuckles.

"No, not that." Then he looks serious again. "I… Dean, I love you."

Dean feels something wash over him. It's not something he feels often, but he's been through enough to recognize it as relief. It's like a clog being pulled out of a drain, like the air can finally get through, like he can breathe again without ever having known he was choking.

What he says in response may not be as beautiful as what he was just told, but he knows that Cas is his best friend, and Cas understands what he means.

"I said shut up…" He hooks his hands behind Cas' neck and pulls him closer. "And let me finish."


End file.
